Butterflies
by Fayth3
Summary: Spike hasn't been feeling well lately but Vampire's don't get sick. Right?


Butterflies

"You're trying to poison me."

Giles rolled his eyes at the typical melodrama and fought the urge to rub the bridge of his nose... again.

"For the last time, Spike, if I were trying to kill you I wouldn't bother with poison. Buffy would be only too happy to stake you."

Spike sneered. "So? Doesn't mean anything. Maybe ya decided to be a man for once instead of letting the Slayer do all the work for ya."

Giles glared at him and wondered what he'd possibly done in a previous life to get landed with the bleached blond pain in his arse.

"Don't push me, Spike." He said through gritted teeth.

Maybe he'd been a bad... well, worse than he had been back in the days of Ethan Rayne.

"Then stop trying to poison me, you great pansy!"

A murderer. He'd have to have been a murderer to get lumbered with Spike.

"I don't have time for this!" Giles turned on his heel and stomped his way across the apartment, feeling his heart sink as Spike's footsteps followed behind him. Whose bright idea had it been to untie the vapid vampire?

Oh, that's right. _His_.

Hitler. He had to have been Hitler.

"Oh sure, just plant something in my blood and pretend nothing's wrong."

Giles admitted defeat. "Fine, Spike. Exactly how have I poisoned you?"

Spike grimaced and held up the bright yellow mug coated with thick blood and a splash of cinnamon.

A mug Giles was never going to drink out of ever again.

"Breakfast blood bag prepared by Zapper and airhead. I'm fine. Mid day blood bag prepared by the Slayer and I'm fine. Dinner blood bag prepared by you and it feels wrong."

Giles frowned. "Wrong how?"

Spike shrugged and leaned against the doorway gesturing to his mid-section. "Feels weird about here. Like it's bubbling inside. Then I get palpitations."

"You. Are. Dead." Giles enunciated each word. "Your heart doesn't beat. How on earth can you get palpitations?"

Spike glared. "Just do. Feels all jumpy in there, like a Milwall supporter in West Ham."

"I prefer rugby myself," Giles cocked his head as Spike rolled his eyes.

"You know, I have always been fascinated by the physiology of the undead nervous system. For example you take in sustenance in the form of blood and its nutrients but there must be waste products and the process of digestion uses fluids that surely dissipate at death. What processes keep the life force going and the internal systems ticking over? Also, slightly less pressing but no more intriguing is the effect on the various organs. Technically blood can't circulate because your heart doesn't pump blood around the body so certain portions of your anatomy shouldn't rise and yet vampires can and do mate. It's all very fascinating."

Spike raised one delicate eyebrow. "So you spend time thinking about vampires taking a shit and getting an erection. No wonder your bird left you."

Giles stiffened. "Olivia didn't leave me. She's taking an extended sabbatical in Germany for her course."

"Whatever keeps you and your hand going, mate." He waved the mug. "Doesn't stop the fact that you are trying to off me!"

Giles pinched the bridge of his nose. "I could have been a greengrocer, but no, had to be a Watcher." He sighed heavily. "As much as the thought of you gone forever thrills me, I have had nothing to do with it."

Spike tilted his head. "Really? Brit's honour?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Spike!"

"Then I'm sick. It can't be bad blood because it happens every day, could be some kind of bite- maybe a tick." He glanced over his shoulder. "When was the last time you cleaned that sofa?"

"It's not too late for a career change is it?"

"Hello, no time for an existential crisis here, mate, I could be dying."

Giles gave him a look.

"Again."

"Perhaps you have late onset irritable bowel syndrome."

"I'm dead."

"I said _late_ onset."

Spike threw his hands up. "C'mon! There has to be something in one of your books about vampires getting sick. You Watchers are full of that kind of stuff."

"Yes because it's well within our interests to cure you. There are very few documented cases of a vampire actually being ill other than those that already had a predisposition of condition such as obesity, mental disorders or, oddly enough, migraines. Are you sure you're not just imagining it?"

"I'm not bloody imagining it!" Spike growled. "It hits about three o clock and the insides of my stomach gurgle like a bloody volcano and I can feel the lining start to peel away."

Giles actually seemed interested. "Perhaps your symptoms are psychosomatic. A way for the body to reveal what the mind is thinking. You say it happens every day around three?"

"Yes."

"Buffy usually drops round about half past. Perhaps your fear of her is making you apprehensive." He smirked at Spike's outraged expression.

"Not bloody likely!"

"Panic attack? Terror?"

Spike's eyes glowed gold and he yelled suddenly, his hand shooting to his forehead. "Bastard!"

"Hmm, or you are aware that as soon as Xander gets here you will have more violent thoughts and are merely anticipating the pain that results from your encounters."

"Well that's... not a bad point," Spike chewed his lip as he considered that. It was true that he hated the irritating little shit and his girlfriend the sex obsessed ex-demon. Whenever he was around them he was filled with violent thoughts which did end up with his brain feeling like it was being hit by a slice of lemon wrapped around a brick.

He had never been afraid of pain- he'd been a Manchester United supporter for hell's sake- but maybe the Watcher was onto something.

He sat on the edge of the sofa and tried to think back to being alive; back to when his feelings and emotions ran through him like heated blood, back when there was more than fighting and biting on his mind.

The low level thrum that tiptoed through his veins reminded him of balls and dances, the tingle in his palms was oddly reminiscent of walks in Hyde Park and the smell of begonias and that twisting sensation in his belly was... anticipation?

"Huh," Spike cocked his head. What the hell was he looking forward to?

Only one way to find out.

Spike flipped around on the sofa and stared at the front door just waiting for the next person to walk through.

He didn't have long to wait. Ten minutes later Buffy sauntered through the door like she owned the place.

"Hey Giles... Spike," she spat out at seeing him. "Didn't you manage to dust yourself yet?"

Her words faded into the background as he studied her carefully and tried to match his feelings to her arrival.

Had he been anticipating a good fight or was he nervous about her continued threats on his unlife?

Buffy shifted her feet as her nemesis just stared at her with a considering look.

"Spike?"

He said nothing.

"Spike? Giles! Spike is freaking me out."

Giles appeared in the doorway to the kitchen and stared at the bleached blonde vampire. "Anything?"

Spike shook his head slowly. He felt a slight hint of annoyance, a smidge of respect and a hint of nausea at her perfume but nothing else.

It wasn't Buffy.

He slumped back against the sofa and rolled his eyes. "Nope."

Giles ducked back into the kitchen leaving Buffy staring between them in confusion- a normal expression for her and nothing to worry about.

It was another fifteen minutes before the door reopened and Xander and Anya walked in. A wave of disgust and irritation swelled in Spike at the very sight of the vapid boy and his even more annoying girlfriend.

Once again she was talking about orgasms in a loud manner and Xander was blushing furiously.

"Not now, An, I told you to—gahhhh Spike!"

The boy jumped a mile in the air at seeing the man sitting still as a statute on the sofa staring at him in a predatory way.

"God, Spike, make some noise. I don't want to die of shock at my age."

More likely to die of embarrassment, Spike thought as he watched them both.

He felt aggravated at the kid's appearance and baffled as to why the boy wasn't dead yet. He did feel some violent urges but they were muted. Towards the demon chick he felt disappointment that such a high standing vengeance demon could sink so low and a slight interest in her breasts but complete disinterest in her personality. She pissed him off and annoyed him but that was it.

It wasn't the disgusting duo.

Spike slumped back in his seat and glared up at the ceiling. Well if his luck was out- and it usually was- no doubt Slutty's boy toy would appear soon.

He sat up slightly. Riley the Initiative's golden boy.

Maybe that was it.

He waited, almost eager now to see if Farm Boy was the reason for his sudden digestive problems. Was it the idea of being held prisoner, the shame and degradation that he- William the Bloody- had been captured and held against his will? Was it apprehension that he would wind back there to face even more hideous torments or simply disgust at the way he had been neutered? Perhaps there was the slight fear that he would be again, that Iowa would drag him back to those white walls and unknown tortures.

He had wound himself up to such an extent that he was almost disappointed when the good old boy wandered in, looking like a lost cow, and the only thing Spike felt was a sudden craving for sweet corn.

"Damn it!" he swore and kicked the sofa.

Giles looked up from his books spread all over the table. "No luck?"

"No." Spike felt it was beneath him to pout- but he did it anyway. "So much for your theory, Watcher."

"Perhaps. Willow isn't here yet."

Spike snorted. "Since the wolf ran off, Red hasn't done anything scarier than wear one of her old shirts from the time that fashion forgot."

"I beg your pardon?"

Spike gestured to his torso. "You know her old t-shirt with the rainbow on it. She wore it back when Angelus was around. Pink thing."

Giles' expression was a direct infringement of Xander's confused™ look.

"You know, she used to wear it with those cord skirts and red tights?"

"You... remember what Willow wears?" Giles was sort of incredulous.

"What?"

Giles inclined his head thoughtfully. "Don't look but tell me what Buffy is wearing."

"Why the hell should I care?"

A slow smile started to spread over Giles's face.

A malicious smile that Spike didn't trust.

"What do you think of Oz?"

"He was a right loser. Stupid dog, Red should have had him put down permanently."

"I'm sure Willow will take him back."

A growl rumbled from Spike's chest. Giles' smirk grew wider.

"You never met him, Spike. Why should you care?"

"Because, because," Spike blustered, his face going red, "I don't, that's why. I don't care."

"Of course." Giles took off his glasses and polished them with his handkerchief. "I also suppose it doesn't bother you that Willow has just walked in."

"What, where?" Spike swung around, his brow creasing in frustration as he saw the closed door. "What are you talking about, Watcher, Red isn't here."

"No... but how is your heart rate?"

Spike opened his mouth to retort only to realise that his heart was, in fact, racing and those stomach spasms were getting worse. He clutched a hand to his belly.

"Damn it, has she cursed me?" He looked at Giles frantically. "Bloody witch playing with magic again."

"Worse than that, I'm afraid, Spike." Giles cast a glance over at the teenagers deep in conversation and edged closer to Spike.

"What?"

"You have..."

"What?"

"A crush." Giles stood back and full out grinned. "You have a crush on Willow."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Take it back."

Giles gave him a look that suddenly reminded Spike that he used to have the nickname Ripper. "Needless to say she is too good for you and if you attempt to hurt her Buffy will stake you and that's only after I have had my go first."

Spike shook his head. "Rubbish." "You hate her ex, you notice her clothes, you are aware when she enters the room and she makes you nervous and anticipatory. You like her."

"You're off your bleeding trolley, mate." Spike backed away from the crazy man and sat back down on the sofa, glaring over his shoulder at the teens. Stupid kids. And stupid Giles, he had no idea what Spike felt.

And as for Willow being too good for him, well that was...

"_I do see you, William, that's the problem. You're beneath me."_

He clenched his fists as his stomach rolled in that familiar way... wait.

His stomach rolled and his heart beat faster and it had reminded him of balls and dances and- Cecily.

Giles' front door opened and back-lit the red curls on Willow's head, the sunlight dazzling and making them look like a ring of fire around her.

His heart thumped and something fluttered in his belly.

"Hey guys," she said in her chirpy voice.

His stomach clenched.

"Hey Spike," her voice went soft and she smiled and suddenly he remembered what that emotion was, what was tied up with dances and balls and holding hands in Hyde park and the turn of a pretty ankle.

He knew what those fluttery feelings were.

Butterflies.

The Watcher was right, damn him. He had a crush on Willow.

"Oh bollocks!"


End file.
